Dreamsnake

Grum. Perhaps Melissa could go to her, if Snake could free the child from Mountainside. Grum was neither beautiful nor obsessed with physical beauty; Melissa’s scars would not repel her.

But it would take days to send a message to Grum and receive an answer, for her village lay far to the north. Snake had to admit to herself, too, that she did not know Grum well enough to ask her to take on a responsibility like this one. Snake sighed and combed her fingers through her hair, wishing the problem would submerge in her subconscious and reemerge solved, like a dream. She stared around the room as if something in it would tell her what to do.

The table by the window held a basket of fruit, a plate of cookies, cheese, and a tray of small meat pies. The mayor’s staff was too generous in its treatment of invalids; during the long day Snake had not even had the diversion of waiting for and looking forward to meals. She had urged Gabriel, and Larril and Brian and the other servants who had come to make the bed, polish the windows, brush away the crumbs (she still had no idea how many people worked to manage the residence and to serve Gabriel and his father; every time she learned another name a new face would appear) to help themselves to the treats, but most of the serving dishes were still almost full.

On impulse, Snake emptied the basket of all but the most succulent pieces of fruit, then refilled it with cookies and cheese and meat pies wrapped in napkins. She started to write a note, changed her mind, and drew a coiled serpent on a bit of paper. She folded the slip in among the bundles and tucked a napkin over everything, then rang the call-bell.

A young boy appeared—still another servant she had not encountered before—and she asked him to take the basket to the stable and put it in the loft above Squirrel’s stall. The boy was only thirteen or fourteen, lanky with rapid growth, so she made him promise not to raid the basket. In turn she promised him all he wanted of what remained on the table. He did not look underfed, but Snake had never known a child undergoing a growth-spurt who was not always a little bit hungry.

“Is that a satisfactory bargain?” she asked.

The boy grinned. His teeth were large and white and very slightly crooked; he would be a handsome young man. Snake reflected that in Mountainside even adolescents had clear complexions.

“Yes, mistress,” he said.

“Good. Be sure the stablemaster doesn’t see you. He can hunt up his own meals as far as I’m concerned.”

“Yes, mistress!” The boy grinned again, took the basket, and left the room. From his voice, Snake decided Melissa was not the only defenseless child to feel Ras’s temper. But that was no help to Melissa. The servant boy was in no better position to speak against Ras than Melissa was.

She wanted to talk to the child, but the day passed and Melissa did not appear. Snake was afraid to send any more definite message than the one in the basket; she did not want Melissa beaten again because of a stranger’s meddling.

It was already dark when Gabriel returned to the castle and came to Snake’s room. He was preoccupied, but he had not forgotten his promise to replace Snake’s ruined shirt.

“Nothing,” he said. “No one in desert robes. No one acting strangely.”

Snake tried on the shirt, which fit surprisingly well. The one she had bought had been brown, a rough homespun weave. This one was of a much softer fabric, silky thin strong white material block-printed with intricate blue designs. Snake shrugged and held out her arms, brushing her fingertips over the rich color. “He buys new clothes—he’s a different person. A room at an inn, and nobody sees him. He probably isn’t any more unusual than any other stranger passing through.“

“Most of the strangers came through weeks ago,” Gabriel said, then sighed. “But you’re right. Even now he wouldn’t be remarked on.”

Snake gazed out the window. She could see a few lights, those of valley farms, widely scattered.

“How’s your knee?”

“It’s all right now.” The swelling was gone and the ache had subsided to what was normal during changeable weather. One thing she had liked about the black desert, despite the heat, was the constancy of its weather. There she had never awakened in the morning feeling like some infirm centenarian.

“That’s good,” Gabriel said, with a hopeful, questioning, tentative note in his voice.

“Healers do heal fast,” Snake said. “When we have good reason to.” She thrust aside her worries, grinned, and was rewarded with Gabriel’s radiant smile.

This time the sound of the door opening did not frighten Snake. She awakened easily and pushed herself up on her elbow.

“Melissa?” She turned the lamp up just enough for them to see each other, for she did not want to disturb Gabriel.

“I got the basket,” Melissa said. “The things were good. Squirrel likes cheese but Swift doesn’t.”

Snake laughed. “I’m glad you came up here. I wanted to talk.”

“Yeah.” Melissa let her breath out slowly. “Where would I go? If I could.”